


Perhaps

by WhatWldMrsWeasleyDo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-11
Updated: 2013-12-11
Packaged: 2018-01-04 08:35:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1078863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatWldMrsWeasleyDo/pseuds/WhatWldMrsWeasleyDo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Step by step the friendship between two bright young men developed, with results which would change Wizarding history.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perhaps

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much to emansil_12 for being a brilliant beta and an inspiring mod! Happy Christmas, babe. Written as part of hp_adoptaprompt on LJ.  
>  **Prompt:** Number 27: _Lost Canon Moment: "when it became more than friendship"_ submitted by evening12, originally to hprarefest.  
>  **Disclaimer:** Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

The moment when it all changed went unremarked by the others in that crowded room; only Albus and Gellert noticed it. They were the centre of attention, watched by the older and younger witches and wizards of the village. This tea party placed them both centre stage: educated, attractive young men with a desire to perform and persuade. Only Aberforth was immune to their spell. He glowered from the corner.

Albus had always considered Godric’s Hollow to be a backwater which needed escaping. He had believed that all of the glittering, knowledgeable, witty men of the world were elsewhere in cities or teaching in schools. He had been mildly bored by the place before he had enrolled at Hogwarts, but his first term had taught him to despise it. Hogwarts gave him intellectual nourishment; the school was his real home.

It was a surprise, therefore, to meet his equal in his home village. They sparred verbally, competing, agreeing surprisingly often. They had been introduced a week before, and they had smiled politely and shaken hands as form decreed, but that had been all. The tea party was when things changed; that was when they noticed each other. Gellert made a gesture with his wrist, lifted his chin and with a flashed grin suggested that Muggles might be glad to be looked after. Albus was convinced.

But, no. That had not been the important moment. Two weeks later everything had really changed.

Albus had known for years, of course, that he was not attracted to the opposite sex. He had been secure in his belief that Elphias was his soul mate. They had plans to travel in Europe. In some parts of the Continent, they had heard, there was a more liberal attitude to manly love than there was in Britain. Elphias was loyal and doting, he made Albus feel cherished. They had grown beyond their fumbling, groping school boy explorations. He and Elphias were settled together.

All of that changed, though, a fortnight after the party, in Madame Bagshot’s parlour, when Gellert fixed Albus with a challenging glare along with the proffered bowl of aniseed balls. Heat rose in Albus, stirring him in forbidden and forgotten ways. His heart sped at the energy with which Gellert declaimed against the ignorance of Muggles and the material poverty of Wizards. Grindelwald’s call to arms stirred Albus between his legs. He ceased to hear the arguments, lost in sparking blue eyes, stunned by the ferocity of his attraction.

That could still have been insignificant. Perhaps it was not, after all, that moment which changed their fates. Albus might still have ventured off into secure, exotic domesticity with Elphias if it had not been for the swallows.

The swallows’ nests had disturbed the thatch on Madame Springett’s home. She was an old lady who lived alone. A few spells were all that were needed to put things right so Albus offered to help her. He stood under the eaves with his wand directed above him, his arms raised. He was so intent on his task that he did not notice Gellert’s approach. A movement in the sky distracted Albus. It was not a swallow, so it was safe. The swallows had been and gone. His glance to check, however, took in a Gellert who thought himself unobserved. 

Albus did see him, though. Albus saw the want and desire on his face as he watched Albus; it mirrored Albus’ own lusts. For days afterwards that moment preyed on Albus’ mind. He could have ignored his passion if it had been unrequited. The possibility of mutuality made it impossible to rise above. It changed everything. That was the moment. Because of that split second of a glimpse of a look, Wizarding history was altered.

Yet nothing is truly entirely irresistible. Anyone who tells themselves that is excusing their own weakness. Albus could have left Godric’s Hollow that day. Or he could have mastered his hunger. He could have invited Elphias to stay. He did none of those things. All sorts of alternative histories were still possible so long as the two youths had not declared themselves. It was their admission which changed everything. After that there was no going back.

They sat in a back room of the village pub. It was late. The main bar was still crowded with the more insatiable local drinkers, but in the little room with the bookcase they were alone. Albus’ thoughts swam with ways of bringing the conversation round to romance. The inadvisability of so doing and the various ways of avoiding such a topic, swam against that tide and countered it. The beer and the mead did not help matters. The way the firelight danced orange, illuminating Gellert’s perfect features, highlighting his blond curls, made things even worse. The light growth of stubble on his cheeks, the straight lines of his nose, and the fantastically exciting fast thoughts which spilled out between his soft lips combined into a maelstrom which the teenaged Albus could not battle. 

‘Gellert, listen,’ he said. ‘Listen, I don’t know…’ It was up to Albus to say something, because he knew that Gellert felt the same as he did. Gellert did not know Albus’ passion. On top of that, Albus was two years older, so he ought to take charge, though the age difference melted away every time they talked. Once Albus had spoken there would be no going back. Everything would change. ‘I don’t know quite how to say this.’ He looked around. They really were quite alone. Albus lowered his voice anyway. ‘I really am frightfully attracted to you.’

Gellert blushed a little. His eyelids dropped to an angle which must have shown him Albus’ lips, then shot back up again. He had the option of ignoring Albus’ tipsy declaration. Albus felt him weighing it in the silent room as the drinkers beyond began to sing. Perhaps it wasn’t Albus’ fault. Everything changed when Gellert shot his head forward to touch their lips together. It was Gellert, after all, who whispered, ‘There’s nobody in the churchyard at this time of night.’

If it had only been the one time, stretched out on the stone tombs, kissing feverishly, then perhaps Albus could have forgotten. If he had seen his error that first morning, he could have gone away with Elphias immediately, just a few weeks earlier than planned. Ariana might have lived into old age that way. When the call came later for Dumbledore to save Wizard-kind from the evil Grindelwald, perhaps he could have answered it straight away. One night of kisses and moss might be ignored instantly, might it not, in the light of the greater good?

It was not just once and it was not just kisses. All of the tragedy of that summer and the later years would have been avoided if it had been. Perhaps. Aberforth was right to glower. If it had been just his mind or just his body which was pulled towards that wild, lovely boy, then Albus might have resisted Gellert. Perhaps. His family would have been whole, his sister alive, and Albus would never have been seduced for any length of time by Pureblood rhetoric. Perhaps.


End file.
